Under Different Circumstances
by Angie J Trifid
Summary: Rita is sent to Roddy's house by the burst water main instead of Sid. Follow the scenes that unfold between the two of them. Not sure whether or not the rating needs to change. Mostly Rodita. R&R, please
1. Burst Water Main

**A/N: Hey guys, this is my first **_**Flushed Away**_** fanfic… I'm not completely sure how this story was created. Guess I just wanted to try some different things**

**Somehow at some point I managed to think, "Hey! What would've happened if Roddy and Rita met under different circumstances?" and decided to write this. Or something like that, anyways…**

**Originally this was going to be a one-shot but I decided to make it multi-chapter. I dunno… maybe like a fan-version of the original**

* * *

**Chapter One: Burst Water Main**

A strangle, gurgling sound from elsewhere in the house startled Roddy awake. For a moment he lay completely still, breath held tight, heart beating fast with adrenaline, and just listened…

There it was. That gurgling sound again. What was it? An intruder? Roddy cringed at the thought. He needed reinforcements. After all, in a big, empty house like this, one rat on his own didn't stand much of a chance.

Minutes later, he was in the kitchen, clutching tightly onto an army doll and a keychain which doubled as a torch. Oh, and wearing a plastic Viking helmet for protection. Roddy was using the soldier as a shield, but there didn't appear to be any immediate danger, despite the noise _definitely_ coming from the kitchen. He listened.

There again… the _sink_! It sounded almost blocked up. But what could –

The recorded sound of "_Give up your weapons of mass destruction!_" made Roddy jump, and in the panic of thinking an intruder might spot him, Roddy began doing battle with the army doll to shut him up.

Having at last removed the batteries from Sarge's back, Roddy clambered somewhat ungraciously onto the counter in the middle of the kitchen, where he saw the tap of the sink beginning to shake and vibrate.

As Roddy shone the torch's beam of light directly at the sink, a burst of water shot up from the sink almost like a fountain… Roddy saw a flash of colour before he looked up… a shape somersaulted through the air, propelled by the push given by the water, and landed almost silently on the counter, and straightened up.

A rat – a girl rat, probably from the sewer.

Actually, Roddy thought, she was quite a pretty girl rat. Even if she was from the sewer.

Then again, he'd never seen another girl rat in his life before. But she was definitely prettier than Tabitha's fashion dolls.

The girl rat was looking straight at him, through the glare of the torch. The shock of seeing her green eyes bore into his – of actually being stared at by someone _alive_, someone who wasn't just a human or a fashion doll – momentarily erased all memory of how, exactly, speech worked. Probably, it involved _not_ standing there staring with your mouth hanging open.

It was the girl rat who broke the silence first. Underneath her cockney accent, her voice was tentative; cautious. Perhaps even a little hesitant. "Is this… your house?"

That sentence seemed to kick some sense into Roddy, who was feeling very awkward, still wearing the plastic helmet. He hurried to remove it. "Yes," he replied. Then he added: "Who are you? How – how did you get here?"

"Not sure. I was in the pub, but there was a burst water main…" the girl rat stopped talking, as though she felt she really didn't need to explain any further. And it was true, Roddy understood just fine: the burst water main had sent the girl up through the pipes and she had ended up here. So she _must_ be from the sewer.

"Who are you?" Roddy asked again.

"Rita," the girl answered absently. She seemed to be searching for something.

Despite his horror, Roddy had to admit he was enjoying conversing with someone who could actually… well, talk back.

"Where's the toilet?" Rita asked. Roddy blinked.

"Why?"

"The pipes lead to the sewer. Duh." Rita stared at Roddy as though he were a complete idiot. He wasn't sure he approved of being given such a sarcastic look. Especially not by a _sewer rat_.

"Look here, you can't –"

"Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"It's through the door to your right, but –"

"Thanks." Rita hopped off the counter and headed for the door. Roddy's stare of annoyance dropped into a frown. He'd just met the first rat he'd ever seen in his entire life – other than himself, of course – and he couldn't think to be courteous?

_Okay,_ he thought. _Take two. I'll just have to make a better impression than I did five minutes ago._

Roddy immediately followed Rita out the door, calling out nervously: "Rita! Wait! Rita!"

Standing with her left hand on the toilet handle and her right hand checking something in her back pocket, Rita turned to stare at him. "What?" she asked. Her fingers closed around the silver handle.

Roddy froze. He hadn't planned this through, and now Rita's green eyes were staring directly into his and his brain was melting.

"I – uh –"

"Look, I have to get going, alright?"

"Well, I was – I was wondering if…" Roddy was plenty experienced with talking to plastic fashion dolls, but apparently he needed practise with talking to real people. Especially with girls.

"Spit it out," Rita said.

"Would you like to stay for a while?" Roddy blurted out. Rita looked at him, seeming to think the suggestion through carefully.

"Sure," she said at last. "Probably safer if I stay here for a bit."

Roddy blinked. "Safer?"

"Long story," Rita said, jumping down to stand in front of Roddy. She extended her hand. "I'm Rita Malone."

"Roddy St. James," Roddy replied, shaking Rita's hand. Her hand was incredibly warm, especially in comparison to Tabitha's fashion dolls. Roddy had to try and repress a small grin. "Would you like something to eat?"

Rita regarded him again. "Sure. What've you got?"

Now it was Roddy's turn to think. "Well… there's plenty of food in the kitchen… and Tabitha's parents may have left some chocolate cake behind… what would you like?"

* * *

"So… d'you get to live here on your own?" Rita asked. She was lounging on a sofa cushion, eating a small slice of cake, watching an advertisement for the upcoming world cup match. Roddy couldn't stop watching her. Especially her eyes. She had charming eyes, he thought. _Absolutely lovely_.

"Not – not exactly," Roddy stammered, unsure of how to continue. Should he explain that he was a pet rat, or make something up? He should probably explain, but make it sound better than it could, Roddy finally decided. "My owners live here too, but they're usually out, and they don't realise I can get out of the cage whenever I want."

"You're a pet rat, then?" Rita didn't look surprised. At least, not much. "My mum knew a pet rat once. Not as – er, _refined_ – as you, though."

"Do you have much of a family?"

"Huge. Thirty-something siblings, I think."

"I never knew my family." Roddy couldn't stop the sad undertone in his voice.

"That's unfortunate." Rita turned to face Roddy. She had been very reserved at first, but Roddy felt he had been able to get Rita to open up to him. Just a bit. "Roddy, don't worry about it, alright? I mean, a huge family like mine isn't exactly easy…"

Rita continued to watch the television with mild interest, as Roddy, in return, watched her. She wore a green jumper, sewer boots and Union Flag jeans, with a red ponytail. Her clothes had all been scavenged, of course. As had the clothes of the vast majority of her family, she had explained. Oh, she said, others who lived in the sewers wore scavenged clothes too, but normally the material was scavenged and then the clothes were made in a boutique; but in Rita's family, the material usually went straight to her mother, who made clothes. They couldn't afford the boutique clothes if they wanted to keep eating.

"You… have a large family, then?" Roddy asked.

"Yeah," Rita answered. "Huge. The house is pretty full. There's not a lot of money but we get by."

Roddy had never realised there was even poverty among sewer rats. "Is there anything I could do to help?" he asked the question before he realised what he was doing.

"Nah," Rita answered. "We'll be okay. I've got this."

She took a jewel-shaped piece of red glass from her pocket. To an inexperienced eye, Roddy realised, it would look like a ruby. He frowned.

"Is there a story behind all this?"

"Sure," Rita said. When she turned to find Roddy waiting expectantly, she continued: "I used to work the drains with my dad, and we found this ruby one day… Dad broke every bone in his body trying to get to it. But we got it. Problem is, this crime boss – the Toad – wanted it and he keeps trying to steal it, so then I have to steal it back… long story short, I was hiding in the pub after I'd nicked it back again. The Toad's henchrats are probably looking for me."

Roddy's frown deepened. Rita and her father had possibly risked their lives… for a piece of glass.

But wait: wasn't there a jewellery box in the master bedroom?

Roddy wasn't sure if he was feeling generous or just trying to impress Rita.

"Rita…" he began, slightly more sure of what he'd say this time. "I can give you a ruby, if you want one."

Rita stared at him as though he was an idiot, and raised the false gem in her hand a little higher. "I've got one."

"No," Roddy explained, moving closer to her. "I doubt that. It's just glass. Look: you can tell. Real gems don't break."

With that, he snatched the piece of glass from Rita's hand and hurled it to the ground, where it shattered. For a moment, Rita stared dumbly at the shards; then her jaw set and her hands curled into fists. Almost too late, Roddy realised his mistake.

He didn't quite expect the first punch, which knocked him backwards. Roddy stumbled away and grabbed a cushion to defend himself with. _Perhaps I shouldn't have done that,_ he thought. Making Rita angry was the exact opposite of what he'd planned to do. Now he had to get her to calm down so he could –

Wait.

Rita wasn't attacking. Roddy lowered the cushion and peered around it. Rita was at the opposite end of the sofa, her knees drawn up to her chest. She looked ready to cry.

_Well done, Roddy, old chap. You're just smashing at this, aren't you?_

Roddy stepped cautiously up to Rita. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say. He wasn't used to guilt.

"Just leave me alone," Rita mumbled.

"Rita, please. I want to help you."

Rita scoffed. "Is that what you call _helping_ Up Top?"

"Rita." Roddy's voice was firm enough that it even surprised himself. It certainly made Rita look at him. He knelt next to her. "In the master bedroom, there's a jewellery box full of diamonds, rubies and pearls… real ones. I can give you one."

Rita looked doubtful. Roddy couldn't say he blamed her. It probably sounded too good to be true. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"I want to help," Roddy answered. "Is that so hard to believe."

"A little."

Roddy chuckled and stood up. "Come on," he said, offering his hand to Rita. She stood up on her own, casting him a defiant glare, and followed him into the master bedroom.


	2. Dirty Tricks

**A/N: Still my first **_**Flushed Away**_** fanfic… terrified to make it good**

**Probably not working and I got a bit carried away but oh well**

* * *

**Chapter Two: Dirty Tricks**

Rita wasn't sure whether she should trust Roddy, especially after he broke her ruby, but then, he wasn't exactly asking her to trust him, she reasoned. She let him lead her into the master bedroom, although she _did_ put up a bit of a fight when Roddy tried to place his hands over her eyes. It didn't take much to get him to give up.

He led her over to a jewellery box and made her close her eyes. Rita covered her eyes with her hand but peeked through her fingers, at Roddy. She hated to admit it about such a prissy rat, but he was undoubtedly one of the most handsome blokes she'd met. Especially recently.

"Here," Roddy said, grinning as he reached into the box, picked something up, and withdrew his arm (Rita dropped her hand from her eyes now); holding what was possibly the most beautiful gemstone Rita had ever seen. Compared to this, Rita could see how the ruby she and her dad had worked so hard to get was just glass.

She found herself breathless.

But then a thought formed at the back of her mind. "You want something in return, don't you?"

Roddy frowned. "I – I don't think so." He looked almost confused.

"Then why are you helping me?" Rita demanded. She knew she should just accept the help, but something wouldn't let her.

"Well," Roddy said, crossing his arms and sticking his nose in the air with a feigned, over-dignified tone to his voice, "I can tell when I'm not wanted. If that's the way you're going to be, then I…" he pretended to cry but it didn't last very long, because he and Rita began to laugh.

"Thank you," Rita said, when they had both recovered their breath. She accepted the ruby; clutched it to her chest. "It's beautiful."

"Do you think it'll be enough?" Roddy asked. Rita nodded.

"I have another idea," Roddy said. "It sounds stupid, but if you're up for it…"

Considering his last idea had involved smashing the ruby she'd found, Rita wasn't sure if she wanted to accept Roddy's offer. On the other hand, he had just given her a new one, so she didn't have much choice but to agree.

* * *

The next box was in Tabitha's room. Tabitha, Roddy explained, was the little girl who looked after him. She absolutely adored her fashion dolls (and Roddy) and spoiled them something rotten. It was why Roddy was dressed so nicely: Tabitha had boxed of clothing, many of which were never used.

Roddy wanted to give some of the clothes to Rita's family.

This was getting a bit weird. Had she accidentally stumbled into some hidden camera show, or charity event? But… the way Roddy kept smiling, a goofy smile mixed with sincerity… somehow she couldn't imagine Roddy was anything other than a lonely, generous, very rich pet rat. And that meant that somehow she just couldn't bring herself to say no to the poor guy.

Besides, it wasn't like he got much company around here, was it?

The box of doll clothes that weren't used was actually a bright pink shoebox. It was decorated mostly with wrapping paper, paint and glitter. Inside the box were masses of dolls' clothes, ranging from 1960s rocker gear to football shirts; hot pant bikini outfits to flowing evening gowns; Wallace & Gromit t-shirts with ripped jeans to dinner suits much like the one Roddy was wearing.

Rita turned away. "No."

"No?" she heard Roddy ask. He possibly stepped closer to her as he said it. She wasn't sure. "What do you mean?"

"I can't accept all this," Rita answered. "I mean, aside from the obvious reason –"

"Pride?" Roddy offered. She knew he meant her pride wouldn't let her accept the gifts he was willing to give her. He was probably right, too, but she wouldn't admit it.

"I've also got no way of getting any of those clothes back into the sewers without ruining them. Besides, won't Tabitha notice they're gone?"

"I doubt it," Roddy answered. "After all, the hardly even _looks_ at this box. And I'm sure I can find you some way of getting the clothes back into the sewers without ruining them."

Rita wasn't sure why, but she continued trying to deny the help. "With the ruby you've given me, we won't have to worry about clothes…"

"Maybe not for now, but who knows how long the money will last?"

"It'll last us long enough…"

"Rita." He was taking a firm tone with her again. Not quite commanding; more like willing, almost _begging_ her to listen to him. Rita looked at Roddy: his brown eyes pleaded with her to take the offer. He looked almost like a puppy.

"Alright," Rita heard herself saying. "If I can find a way to get them back home, then maybe –"

"At least try something on before you say that."

* * *

Rita tried on a green dress that appeared to be designed for some sort of prom, if only to shut Roddy up. The silky material was so smooth against her skin, and it fit her so nicely… if she never wore it out, she could perhaps keep it as a disguise, because the Toad's henchrats would probably never recognise her in –

Bloody hell. That was a dirty trick.

_He probably knew I couldn't say no if I tried something on,_ she thought to herself. _That little sneak._

Suddenly begrudging Roddy every movement she made in this flipping dress, Rita stepped out of the doll house she'd been changing in. "What d'you think?" she asked unenthusiastically.

It definitely shut Roddy up. He stood staring at her, mouth hanging open like he was trying to catch flies. _Charming_.

Rita cleared her throat loudly and glared while Roddy snapped out of it. "You – you look lovely, Rita," he said. He sounded almost breathless. Rita rolled her eyes. She'd heard all the lines – she'd had multiple boyfriends and too many rats flirting with her to count – and at the end of the day, she wasn't as big a fan of the sweet talk routine as she would have been when she was, say, fifteen.

"Yeah, well don't get used to it," she grumbled, and stormed back into the doll house to get changed back into her regular clothes. When she re-emerged from the house, with the dress folded over one arm, she said, "Alright, Roddy, you win. I'll take the clothes with me."

"Wonderful! I'm sure we can find a sealable bag to put these in…"

Yep. He definitely knew she'd have to keep the clothes if she tried them on. He'd probably been planning it. Sneaky little git.

He summoned her over to a bright red convertible and sped off to the kitchen. Rita had absolutely no idea what was going on _or_ why he couldn't have just left her in the bedroom, but she figured he was probably just really lonely. Sudden company must have come as a huge shock to him. In fact, he probably –

"Found them!" he called from one of the drawers. He waved a couple of see-through zip-lock bags over his head and hopped ungraciously down to the floor again. Roddy's movements in anything like this were always clumsy, Rita noted. Every time he jumped or climbed or basically did anything athletic, he automatically switched from a smooth, faultless gentleman to… well, a bit of an ungainly twit.

"These should keep any water away from the clothes. All we would have to do is keep hold of them."

He looked so proud of himself for figuring it out.

Rita sighed. She'd probably be leaving soon. It wasn't that she was used to it here – sure it was comfortable, but it wasn't her home, and besides, she'd only arrived recently – but perhaps it was that she felt bad for Roddy. He'd be all alone up here again. Maybe she felt bad for leaving him. Maybe she should –

Wait.

"_We?_"

Roddy's face went red and he stared at the floor. "Well… yes. I was thinking – could I perhaps – stick with you for a bit? Just for a while. I'd return home after a bit."

At first Rita was going to accuse Roddy of not having thought any of this through, but then she realised he probably had no idea about life in the sewers. "How d'you propose to get back when you're sick of the sewers?" she demanded.

"Well, I thought I could find one of the manhole covers just outside and –"

"Roddy, you'd have to take a boat. The treatment plant at Hyde Park creates _rapids_. They're almost impossible to get past."

"I'm sure you could figure something out."

Rita glared. "Stop trying to sweet talk me, St. James."

"Maybe if you ask nicely, Malone."

Two second later, they were laughing again.

"You might not be a fan of my house," Rita warned, looking around. This house… it was like a palace.

"I won't stay too long," Roddy said, as though in reply to Rita's statement.

"What about Tabitha?"

"Pets run away all the time."

"What if they replace you?"

Roddy paused. He probably hadn't thought of that.

"Well," he said, "I'll probably only stay for a couple of days, then. At least until the world cup's over and they get back."

He smiled; she frowned. It really didn't sound like a good idea. But then, he was giving her all those nice clothes, _and_ a ruby. Maybe they could find some way to get him home other than Hyde Park. There must be another way.

"Alright," she said at last. "If you're sure."

Roddy grinned.

* * *

About half an hour later, they were standing on the toilet seat in the bathroom, having moved everything around so it looked as though nothing had been disturbed – just in case there wasn't time when Roddy returned. Rita had secured the ruby in the heel of one of her boots and she and Roddy each gripped a couple of zip-lock bags.

"Ready?" Roddy asked. He didn't look like the sort of rat who'd enjoy the sewer but Rita just went along with it.

"Not too late to change your mind," she said.

"Honestly, Rita, I'm starting to think you don't want me going with you," Roddy teased.

_Not if the henchrats catch us,_ Rita thought grimly. _You'll probably hold me up and get me in trouble._

"Alright," Rita said. "Get ready."

She made to push Roddy into the water.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "I can't swim…"

"So stay here."

"No, I want to –"

Rita sighed heavily. "Alright, _fine_. When we get there, I'll help you. Okay?"

"Uh –"

"Okay." Rita grinned cheerfully and shoved Roddy into the toilet water. He seemed to panic. Maybe he thought she'd just leave him.

"Wait! Stop! Please!"

Ignoring him, Rita pulled the flush on the toilet and then jumped into the water herself. She was okay with the drainpipes but he wasn't. He crashed into everything, screamed, worried, turned around to check if she was still there, crashed again and the whole cycle would start again.

* * *

Rita had survived the trip with minimal damage and now stood in maybe an inch or two of water, watching Roddy have a panic attack. He obviously hadn't thought his plan through very carefully. He was standing on the walkway crying about wanting to go home and how he shouldn't be here.

Rita rolled her eyes and groaned, picking up the clothing bags he'd dropped. This was gonna be a _long_ day.


	3. Welcome to Ratropolis

**A/N: I don't own **_**Flushed Away**_**… why d'you think there hasn't been a sequel yet?**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Welcome to Ratropolis**

Roddy wasn't enjoying himself. He'd been in the sewers for all of about ten minutes now. He was damp from the water, which was making him cold, which was making him uncomfortable. Why was he stupid enough to suggest going to the sewers, anyway?

A sideways glance at Rita held the answer. She was walking slowly, holding the ruby tight in one hand now, trying to figure out where they were. Her eyebrows were pulled together thoughtfully. She didn't care about the damp, or the cold, or how dark it was down here. She was tough.

_And gorgeous,_ a small voice at the back of his mind added. _Admit it, Roddy. You decided to visit the sewers because you like Rita._

He couldn't exactly argue with his own logic.

"This way," Rita said, pointing around a corner. "Not long now. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes," she added, before Roddy could ask.

"Not long to where, exactly?" Roddy asked irritably. Rita turned; advanced on him.

"Look," she said angrily, "you wanted to come to the sewers. I get that it's not your idea of a great place to be, but if you don't like it then you've only got yourself to blame. Alright?"

Shrinking back, Roddy nodded slightly.

"Good." Rita sounded satisfied. She carried on walking. "We're going to find my boat, the _Jammy Dodger_."

Roddy resisted the urge to laugh, hurrying to catch up with her. "And where to after that?"

"Well, I'd better stop off at the pub and tell them I'm alive, but apart from that we should be able to get straight back to my house."

Roddy breathed a sigh of relief. At least he'd be able to warm up soon.

"Here it is."

Roddy had never seen a real boat in person before, but as he looked over the _Jammy Dodger_, he had to commend the skill of whoever had built it. It had clearly been hand-built from bits of scrap and spare parts which had been scavenged, and Roddy doubted it would be a smooth, fast ride; but clearly it floated and it looked interesting.

"We'll stash the clothes below-deck and I'll find a place to hide the ruby," Rita told him. He sighed. She was so… matter-of-fact. He knew this, of course: Rita had been very matter-of-fact before; but he liked it when she had opened up to him. He'd felt almost like he'd had a friend – one who wasn't made out of plastic, at any rate. But he'd probably ruined it when he'd smashed the fake ruby.

So, perhaps in an attempt to get back on Rita's good side or perhaps to try and lighten the mood (especially his own) Roddy saluted and offered to stash the clothes himself. Rita agreed and opened the hatch which led below the deck. It was crowded down there but Roddy tucked the bags of clothes carefully into a corner and then returned up the ladder, shutting the hatch behind him. Rita had probably returned the ruby to the heel of her boot, because she was leaning most of her weight on one leg.

"Ready?" she asked, gripping the wheel. Roddy sat down near the bow and watched her, nodding politely. "Alright," she said. She seemed cheerier now. Roddy breathed a sigh of relief. Rita laughed. "Don't be so worried, Roddy. We should be home in less than an hour, and then you can get changed into something dry. I'm sure there are dry clothes in one of those bags."

The boat began to move. The motion surprised Roddy for a moment, but then he settled down and said, "Would it be asking too much if I asked to get changed into something dry _now_?"

"Depends if you're planning to pester me about it," Rita shrugged. Then she said, "Go ahead, Roddy. You can probably hang your dinner suit over the engine. The heat it generates should dry your clothes off."

With the hatch safely closed overhead, Roddy stripped down to his underwear and hung his sodden clothes over the engine by a stretch of fishing line. He examined a tear in the sleeve of his jacket. It didn't seem too bad. He figured he could either abandon the jacket, or ask Rita's mother to patch it up – after all, hadn't Rita said her mother was a seamstress?

Roddy found that his trousers and shirt began to dry quickly, and once they were completely dry he put them back on. They were toasty-warm, he thought happily. The jacket was still damp, but it was drier than it had been. Roddy rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and headed back up the hatch.

"Not bad," Rita said approvingly, as Roddy emerged from below the deck. "You should stay dressed like that, Roddy. It suits you a bit."

Roddy grinned. Oh, it felt so wonderful to hear somebody say his name! Especially when that somebody was Rita Malone, with her absolutely lovely voice and –

Roddy slapped himself mentally. He suspected he was developing a crush on Rita, but this was no time to be acting so ridiculous.

The tunnels seemed to lighten all of a sudden. "Here we are," Rita said. They turned a corner and found themselves in the centre of a bustling city. Roddy, who had never seen a city before, also found himself in shock. It looked almost like a miniature replica of London, built especially for and by the rats living here. Instead of roads and cars, of course, were sewer water and boats. It was so… incredible.

"Welcome to Ratropolis," Rita said, placing a hand on Roddy's shoulder and smiling gently. At the nearest docks, she moored the _Dodger_ and hopped onto the walkway, asking Roddy if he wanted to join her.

Of course he did. He didn't plan on telling her, but Roddy enjoyed Rita's company. He felt almost honoured to stand in her presence; to be walking beside her while people glanced at them on the street. Some even stared, although he had no idea whether they were staring at him or at Rita. On occasion they passed someone Rita apparently knew, and Rita would say hello, and more often than not the other person would ask about Roddy, and Rita would reply that he was a friend who was visiting from out of town.

A _friend_. Roddy's heart soared at the thought.

The pub was called _The Bog & Brush_. Roddy glanced doubtfully at the sign, painted in gold capital letters, and wondered whether it was the owner's attempt at being funny. He had, he decided, seen quite enough of toilets for one day.

As they entered, Roddy paused to let his eyes readjust to the change of lighting. It was rather darker in here than it was outside. A few people looked around; someone wolf-whistled. Roddy subconsciously grabbed Rita's hand out of nerves. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and then took her hand from his.

"Hello, Rita! I was worried about you," a large rat with dark hair called out. Rita went over to join him at his table and Roddy followed. He wore a t-shirt made from a pair of y-fronts and leather jacket with denim jeans, and was nursing a beer.

"You know y' don't need to worry about me, Sid," Rita said to the dark-haired rat.

"I knew you'd get back okay," Sid replied, "but I still think we should've swapped places, because then at least – hello, who's this?"

He had spotted Roddy.

"Roderick St James of Kensington," Roddy said, trying his best to say it with a highly dignified air. Rita shot him a look as though he was an idiot. Roddy felt his ego deflate a little.

"The water main sent me to his house," she said, turning back to Sid. "Roddy here decided to come back and see the sewers 'til his owners get home."

Another blow to his pride.

"Don't worry Roddy," Sid cheered, clapping him on the back. "You'll have a right fun time with Rita guiding you 'round! I might join you meself! Want to stay for a drink, Rita?"

"Maybe later, mate. I'd best go tell the family I'm okay."

Rita turned to leave.

"See ya, Rita! See ya, Rodney!"

Rita burst out laughing as they walked through the door. "Don't worry about Sid, Roddy. He's a bit mental but he means well. One of my best and only mates in school, Sid was."

As they headed to Rita's house on the _Jammy Dodger_, Roddy noted that Rita seemed significantly happier than before. Perhaps she was looking forward to seeing her family.

* * *

They docked in front of a very unstable-looking building which rocked from side to side, multiple cases balancing precariously on top of it.

"Good heavens!" Roddy exclaimed. "Is that a house?"

"Yep," Rita replied, handing him all the bags of dolls' clothes. "It's not the safest but it'll do. Why don't you wait outside for a bit? I'll draw the mob's attention away," she added gently, only teasing lightly.

"Mob?"

"You'll see," Rita chuckled. Then she crossed to the door and entered.

Still on the boat, Roddy heard what seemed to him, a loner all his life, like hundreds of little voices cry "_Rita!_" and saw the entire house, porch and all, tip to one side. Eager to see, he scrambled out of the boat, across the dock and over to the window.

Rita hadn't been joking: her family really _was_ huge! She was surrounded by a small army of young children; and still more were playing behind her, hollering greetings to their eldest sibling: "It's Rita!" "Rita's back!" "She's home!" and, Roddy swore, "See, I _told_ you she'd be okay."

A woman who Roddy could see was Rita's mother entered from the kitchen and enveloped her in a tight hug. "Thank goodness you're alright."

Rita smiled. _Smiled_. "I'm fine, mum. Actually, I –"

"Rita!"

Another figure entered from the kitchen. Judging by his age, wheelchair and full-body cast, Roddy figured he was Rita's father.

"Hello, dad," Rita said, still smiling warmly.

_I wonder if I can get her to smile at me like that,_ Roddy thought. Suddenly the entire house tipped again as a large-looking brother of Rita's skated in the direction of the porch, and Roddy, along with Rita's father and several of her siblings, was thrown off-balance. Roddy heard a loud crash as several people hit the wall, and carefully picked himself up. He thought, _I seem to be falling over today far more often than I'd like._

"Oi, mum!" yelled one of Rita's brothers, a spotty, greasy-haired teenager wearing a t-shirt that read _Bubonic Plague_. "There's a Peeping Tom outside!"

Rita spotted Roddy over the boy's shoulder and waved.

"Tom?" shouted a somewhat batty-sounding old woman wearing a pink nightgown and hair curlers, shoving the greasy-haired teenager out of the way. "Ooh, it's Tom Jones!"

"Mother, it's not Tom Jones," Rita's mother said, laughing a little.

"That's just Roddy," Rita said. "The water main sent me up to his house and he's given us some clothes and a ruby in return for letting him stay for a couple of days."

"He's very good-looking," Rita's mother commented, restraining the old woman.

"Mum…" Rita grumbled. "I know what you're thinking… he is _not_ my –"

"Come on in, m'lad," Rita's father said as a couple of children opened the door and pulled Roddy into the warm, unstable house. Remembering at the last minute, Roddy picked up the bags of clothes, which Rita told him to set on her father's lap. The majority of the children immediately crowded around to get a better look.

"Mum, dad," Rita said, "this is Roddy St James. Roddy, this is Mum and Dad."

"What a beautiful name," Rita's mother cooed.

"Thank you," Roddy replied. Already he liked this family.

"Are you Rita's new boyfriend?" the teenager, who'd recently accused Roddy of being a Peeping Tom, asked very loudly. Roddy felt his cheeks heat up and Rita looked equally embarrassed.

"No, he's not," she grumbled.

"Not yet," Rita's mother whispered to Rita's father and Roddy, winking.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rita asked accusingly.

"Don't worry about it, dear," her mother replied. Rita sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. She was about to say something when one of her sisters interrupted her:

"Mum! Mum! Can I try this dress on?" The sister was holding up what looked like a green prom dress.

"Sorry hun," Rita said, holding her hands out for the dress. "That one's mine."

The sister handed the dress delicately over to Rita, who folded it over her arm. "Rita, can I try it on later?"

"Sure," Rita said softly.

"Such a lovely dress," Rita's mother said, impressed, as she felt the material. "I'm sure it'll look lovely on you, Rita."

"It does," Roddy said, before he could stop himself. Rita arched a warning eyebrow at him and he shrugged apologetically.

* * *

"Soup's on!" Rita's mother called. There was, Roddy had recently discovered, only one bowl, full of soup. The entire family would sit at a long table, each holding a spoon, and as the house rocked, the bowl would slide from one end of the table to the other, and everybody would try to get a spoonful of soup as the bowl went along.

"So… how long have _you_ been Rita's boyfriend?" asked a girl sitting opposite Roddy.

"He is _not_ my _boyfriend_," Rita said firmly. The girl stuck her tongue out.

"Thank you so much for those clothes," Rita's mother said. "They're absolutely wonderful."

"You're very welcome," Roddy answered, taking a swipe at the soup bowl as it passed. He was the only one who missed.

"So, Rita," Rita's father said, "what's going on between you and this handsome young man, then, eh?"

Rita rolled her eyes. "I told you before, Dad. He's a new friend. That's it, alright? He's –"

"Tom Jones!" Rita's grandmother cheered excitedly, standing up and accidentally slamming her hands down in the soup bowl. Rita hid her face in her hands, almost in fed up resignation.

Dinnertime continued much in the same hectic manner. Afterwards, Roddy offered to wash the dishes but Rita said, "No, Roddy, pass 'em here. I want a word with _mother dearest_." She placed a lot of emphasis, and a little annoyance, on those words.

"Ooh, sing us a song, Tom!" Rita's grandmother exclaimed. Roddy smiled.

"Of course."


	4. The Bog & Brush

**A/N: Still don't own **_**Flushed Away**_**, unfortunately**

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Bog & Brush**

Rita took the soup bowl from Roddy and walked steadily into the kitchen, followed by her mother.

"Mum," she said as soon as she heard enough noise coming from the front room to hide the conversation she was about to have, "I know what you're playing at."

"What's that, dear?" was the innocent reply, as her mother took the bowl from her and placed it in the sink.

"Don't play the innocent," Rita grumbled. She loved her family, but they were very good at ticking her off sometimes. "You're dropping hints to me and Roddy. You and dad are trying to play matchmaker. Again."

Rita's mother sighed. "Honey, looking at your previous track record for boyfriends, can you blame me?"

Most of Rita's old boyfriends were common as dirt and certainly none of them were as refined, handsome or willingly helpful as Roddy. She had dated some twits in the past, yeah, but she'd also gone out with some decent lads. She voiced this thought to her mother, who laughed.

"Rita, honey, the only decent lads you know are Sid and Roddy." She sighed. "I know you don't want Dad and I playing matchmaker, but we like to think we know what's best for you – even if you don't agree. But it would make us ever so happy if you'd give him a chance, darlin'."

Rita was trying to think of a counter-argument when she heard Roddy singing in the front room and called her mother over. "Hey, mum, come have a look at this."

Standing on the table, Roddy was singing Tom Jones' _She's a Lady_, doing his own dance to it. Rita had to admit, he was a good singer, and not a bad dancer, either. She and her mother entered the room almost cautiously and Mum took one of the chairs while Rita remained standing – a decision she immediately regretted, because Roddy spotted her and in one swift motion, he reached down, took her hand and pulled her onto the table with him, trying to get her to join in.

Her siblings cheered, called out and laughed; her parents were cheering her on and her grandmother was even joining in; and all the time she was standing on the table with Roddy singing, dancing around and holding her hand. Seeing no other way out, Rita relented and joined in the dancing; and Roddy grinned at her. As he ended the song, he spun her under his arm once and dipped her slightly. For a minute Rita thought he was going to drop her.

Looking into his eyes, him holding her like he was… Rita had to admit, it was nice. She smiled, and this time Roddy really _did_ drop her. Normally she would've laughed at the look of shock on his face, but instead she scowled playfully. She felt almost drunk – which reminded her, hadn't she agreed to meet Sid at the pub?

"C'mon Roddy," she said, heading for the door. Roddy looked a bit disappointed but he followed her as she called over her shoulder, "I'll be back soon!"

"You said that the other night," her father replied.

"Ah, but then she met me," Roddy called back, smiling. Rita shot him a dirty look and boarded the _Dodger_. "Where to, miss Captain-Skipper… thingie?" he asked, joining her.

"Pub," Rita said shortly. "I told Sid I'd meet him there, remember?"

"Didn't you say _maybe_?"

"That pretty much means always, in our family."

* * *

Sid turned up at the _Bog & Brush_ about five minutes after they did. He'd gone to work since they'd left and was now in his work overalls.

"Rita! Rodney!"

"Roddy; it's _Roddy_." Roddy replied irritably, as Rita high-fived Sid; and from there they grappled their hands together, pulled the other towards them and patted each other on the back. When they let go and Rita turned to Roddy, he looked almost jealous.

"Don't look so down, Rodders," Sid cheered. "We'll get you a drink, yeah?"

Roddy sighed and Rita caught him glancing sideways at her. He blushed and looked down. "Oh… alright," he said at last.

Sid told them the first round of beers were on him and headed to the bar while Roddy and Rita stayed at their table.

"So…" said Rita, "my parents like you."

"They do?" Roddy seemed pleased enough.

"Yeah. Mum made a point of telling me so."

"Is that why you wanted to speak to her?" Roddy asked, almost gently.

"Eh?"

"To your mother. You wanted to talk to her about the hints they were both dropping, right? The ones about – us…" he said the last word hesitantly, almost as though talking about the two of them was a topic to be carefully sidestepped. Rita thought she saw him blush a bit.

"Yeah," she said. "Mum and dad like playing matchmaker. They think it's fun."

"Oh. I see." Roddy looked a bit dejected, so Rita placed her hand on his and gave his hand a gently squeeze; he flashed a charming smile, but Sid chosen that moment to turn up with their beers. He was holding them between both his hands, which were organised into a triangular-ish shape.

"One for you –" he put a beer down in front of Roddy; "– one for you –" he did the same for Rita; "– and one for me!" Sid plopped down in a seat and looked between the faces of his companions; then down at their hands.

"Sorry! Was I interrupting something?"

"No!" Roddy and Rita exclaimed simultaneously, both pulling their hands back. Rita picked up her beer and gulped half of it down in one go; then realised she'd probably be driving back so she should probably only have this one, and put the glass back down again. She spotted Roddy staring at his beer with deep suspicion. Sid had already finished his.

"Problem, Roddy?"

"What? Oh! No, I just –" Roddy leaned in toward Sid and Rita – "I've never had a beer before."

"You what?" Sid exclaimed. "Rodney my friend, you are missing out big time! Come on me ol' cream cracker, you gotta drink with us!"

Roddy glanced over to Rita. "Is he drunk already?"

"No," she answered simply. "He's just being Sid. Just ignore him and try your first drink."

Roddy gave her a nervous look but she just raised her eyebrows defiantly at him; he complied and raised the drink to his lips. Opened his mouth to let the alcohol in. Swallowed. Immediately started coughing. Rita patted him on the back. "No fancy drinks here, mate."

"It's stronger than I expected," Roddy coughed, as though it was an excuse.

"Puts hair on yer chest," Sid said cheerfully. He slapped Roddy on the back and – judging by how loud the impact sound was and how far Roddy's eyes bugged out of his head – put a few vertebrae out of place in the process.

"Indeed," Roddy winced. He picked up the beer and downed the rest. Sid and Rita found themselves watching his face expectantly.

Rita's eyes flicked from Roddy's face in general to his chocolate-ish-coloured eyes. They were looking at hers; their gazes locked for a moment before Roddy shot out of his seat and excused himself so he could go to the bathroom; but he came back about five seconds later to ask where it was. A drunk rat told him before stumbling outside for a tactical chunder: throwing up in the gutter so he could drink more.

Sid looked around to make sure no-one was listening; then leaned in towards Rita. "I reckon 'e fancies you."

Rita turned to look at the rat who'd just returned from his chunder and pretended to study him thoughtfully. "Nah," she said, grinning. "He's not my type."

They laughed. They both knew Sid had actually been talking about Roddy.

"My parents were trying to hint at me and Roddy getting together earlier," Rita said. She took a drink from her glass. "You know what they're like."

"They just worry about you," said Sid. "They probably think you should be settling down, luv."

Rita snorted.

"Or maybe they think if you got a bloke he'd be able to help look after you when you get yourself in trouble."

"Out of you and Roddy, Sid, I think you're better suited to that."

"Why's that?"

"Look."

Roddy was returning from the bathroom, looking significantly paler. "Trouble holding your drink, mate?" asked Sid.

"A little," Roddy replied, sitting back down. "Truth be told, I'm not accustomed to a working-class lifestyle."

"There's a surprise," Sid teased. "Come on, Mister Fancy! You're one of us now!" Then Sid proceeded to pull Roddy into a cross between a headlock and a hug, and tousle his hair.

"Lucky you," Rita drawled sarcastically, trying not to laugh at the look of shock (and some horror) on Roddy's face. Sid didn't generally smell to great when he'd just got back from work, and Roddy had just been given a face full of armpit. Lovely.

"Yes, well," Roddy grimaced, "just so long as _'us'_ includes a working shower."

Rita chuckled. Sid sniffed his armpit, grimaced as well, and removed his arm from Roddy. "What I get for turning up straight from work, I guess," he laughed. "I'm going for another beer. Anybody want one."

"I'm driving," Rita replied simply, taking another sip of her own drink.

"No, thank you," Roddy told Sid.

* * *

Rita wasn't surprised to find that her parents, but not her siblings, were still awake when she and Roddy returned to the house. Her mum was going through the clothes. She held up the green prom-style dress again.

"Roddy, how did you say Rita looked in this dress?"

"Hello to you too," Rita said under her breath.

"She looked absolutely beautiful," Roddy told Rita's mother, wrapping an arm around Rita's shoulders. She shrugged him out and leaned against the wall.

"Stop it."

Her parents immediately ceased the pointed looks they had been giving her.

"Are you sure you want us to keep these, Roddy?" her dad asked.

"Of course. They would go to waste otherwise."

"Well, thanks very much, m'lad! Rita, Mum said you told her Roddy's given us another ruby."

Rita shook her head. "_A_ ruby, dad. _A_ ruby. Ours was just glass." She retrieved the real ruby from the heel of her boot.

"How beautiful," he mother cooed, gazing at the ruby. Her father wheeled himself closer to better inspect the jewel. Then he looked at Roddy.

"Seems like we owe you a lot, son."

"It's nothing. Really."

Rita caught Roddy staring at her again. They both blushed and averted their gaze. Rita really wished that would stop happening.

"I'm off to bed," she grumbled, trudging outside to sleep on the _Dodger_. What was going on? She wasn't starting to develop a crush on Roddy, was she?


End file.
